


The Academy

by mcrninglights



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, F/M, Father!Tony Stark, Gen, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inhumans (Marvel), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Psychological Torture, Superhero Reader - Freeform, Superheroes, Torture, Trauma, kinda al;ksdjfa;lskdjf you're not actually related
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 12:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrninglights/pseuds/mcrninglights
Summary: ❝---She's lying straight to your face about the Academy, Peter. She doesn't know it, but she is. Just give her time.In which the Reader was rescued from the Academy, and Peter doesn't know anything, and he's getting real sick and tired of not knowing. Post Spider-Man: Homecoming.-【 Peter Parker x Reader 】





	The Academy

**Author's Note:**

> a long journey to go, but any feedback, comments or anything would be appreciated! much love!
> 
> -
> 
> 【 chapter one 】  
> 【 warnings 】slight injuries, alcohol, hospital esque area.  
> 【 word count 】1950  
> 【 summary 】"You can't do your math in pen."

“Baby?” Peter’s features scrunch up in confusion at the name Mr. Stark calls the other, as he tries to peer around the taller man, “what do you mean, Baby? Like, that’s her name?” He just barely gets a glimpse of the person in question surrounded by the monitors and frowns. She doesn’t look all too young, maybe about his age, with [hair color] hair that’s been seemingly fixed, sewn up sutures and cuts now cleaned on her face.

 “No, that’s what the Academy called her,” Tony offers, exasperation lingering in his voice, “listen, kid, we need to go, so I just need you to stay here and watch over her while we go out.”

“We?” 

“Us. Pepper, Cap, Bucky, Natasha, Sam --- everyone.”

“Except for me.”

“You don’t exactly want to go to Chewy’s Tex Mex with us while we all sip margaritas.”

Peter’s face falls, “no, no, I’d totally want to go out drinking margaritas with the Avengers. Please, Mr. Stark? Please, _please_ , **_please_ ** Mr. Stark?”

He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, _no_. I need you to watch over Baby and keep an eye on her vitals, and make sure she doesn’t blow this place up when she wakes up.”

“Blow this place--- Blow this place up?” He takes another peek around the adult, “but she’s sleeping!”

“Exactly. For your sake, I hope she’ll stay like that. Just sit there with her, do homework or something, and if something goes wrong, call us.” He pushes past the other, leaving the doorway to the bedroom open, as Peter peeks in. “Bye, Spider-Boy,” and Peter’s one hundred percent that he called him that just to rub it in his face.

He takes an unsure look, as he hears Mr. Stark call out to FRIDAY, but heads for the living room to grab his bag.

 

The heart monitor is somewhat comforting, the soft beeping just barely being heard over his music, and the white room itself is a bit reminiscent of hospital rooms, which off puts him just slightly, and the girl sleeping in the bed seems not to have noticed his present for the past hour --- which he can’t blame, because she’s still asleep.

Her hair is almost haloish around her, and small snores come from her. Dark circles are underneath her eyes, making her [skin color] look almost bruised. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to be looking for, or waiting for, but she looks more tired than dangerous. He twirls his pen in his hand, before turning back to the differential equation on his paper, beginning to separate the variables.

“You shouldn’t do math in pen.” The voice is soft, and scratchy, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to make him sit up straight. He all but rips an earbud out of his ear, looking back to the bed.

The white comforter is pulled up to her chin, and she’s on her side facing the other, with a pillow tucked into her, clinging to it. [Eye color] eyes strike brilliantly at him, and she looks owlishly at the other, before a yawn escapes her lips, and she looks up at him again. Peter’s frozen in place, eyes locked with hers, and the only intelligible thing he can produce is, “huh?”

“Your math … work,” she starts out, “doing it in pen is… bad.” 

A small, awkward chuckle coming from him, as he puts the pen down, digging into the pencil pouch in his backpack, with a tentative, “Baby…?”

“Hm?” The girl turns at attention to the calling, although she looks more tired than before, and she pulls the comforter closer to her, as if cold. “What is it?”

“How are you… feeling?” He asks gently, too scared to raise his voice as he places his homework next to him. Worry is clear on young countenance, as he continues. “Like… Like… Physically. I think.” 

A small giggle comes from the heap underneath the blanket known as Baby, “I’m… fine. Sore, and tired, but I’m fine. Did Tony send you in to babysit me?”

Flushes pink at her words, as he holds his hands out, denying it, “no, I just… they’re all out, so… he wanted to make sure that you were alright in case you woke up. I think.”

“You say _you think_ a lot,” she says gently, “you should be more confident in your words.” And although her words are firm, they’re spoken in barely above a whisper, eyelashes brushing her cheeks as her eyes flutter shut, “I’m a bit tired. I’m gonna… nap again,” she continues, and Peter scrambles to sit up straight.

“Wait, wait ---!” He scoots his chair closer to the bed, or as much as the heart monitor will allow it, and as he looks at the other who has already closed her eyes, and seemingly soft snores already emitting from her. He doesn’t know how she fell asleep so fast, but it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t catch your name.”

She rolls over to her other side, and the soft snoring resumes, so he sighs, and returns to his homework once more.

 

“Hey. Wake up,” she’s running her hands through his hair gently, hands soft as they brush the brown locks out of his hair, “you’re gonna get in trouble.”

Grogginess lingers in his body as Peter sits up from his position, only to realize he’s fallen asleep at her bedside, his arms and head falling where there was empty space on the white bed, and he blinks a few time to get rid of the blurriness in his vision. It’s only another moment that passes, before he realizes what position he’s in, and he scrambles up, standing up beside her stiffly. She’s sitting up, hair fallen normally in place, and she seems to have his math homework in her lap. “Uh,” is the only cohesive thing he can say, as he struggles to fix his hair in front of the other, “you’re awake.”

She offers a small smile, nodding. “I am. And hungry. Is Tony home?" 

“Mr. Stark?” She nods once more, and he’s waiting for a moment. Waiting for her to blow up in his face, rage all that Tony had warned him about, but she doesn’t. She just sits there, hands returning to fiddling through his worksheets with differential equations on it, eyes tracing over his work, and his eyes fall to his worksheets, surprise covering his countenance. “Did you --- Did you do my math worksheets?”

She perks up at him speaking to her, as she nods gently, picking up the papers. He tries not to notice the track marks that run up her arms, or the vertical and horizontal lines that run up them as the gown slips down. He gulps gently, before taking it from her hands. “Yeah. The Academy taught us how to do it last year.”

“The Academy?”

She nods once more. “It’s a really cool place. Like... “ Her voice is still soft, barely above a whisper as she continues, “they teach you a bunch of cool stuff,” she continues on vaguely, and Peter smiles encouragingly. “Like… Math. And stuff.”

“That’s so cool! Do you like Math?”

Her smile falters, as she shrugs. “...Sure.”

Peter’s eyebrows knit together at her words, her _complacency_ before he breaks out into dorky grin, “that’s good! Um, I’m not really sure where Mr. Stark is, but I’m sure we can get Chinese or something.”

“Sure. If you’re okay with that,” [Name] says, flashing him a brilliant smile, brushing [hair color] hair out of her face, before head cants to the side. “What’s your name again?”

“Peter.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter. I’m [Name].”

 

She’s donned in his high school sweatshirt and a pair of socks, boxers to boot as she shuffles pumps her legs back and forth on the barstool chair on the island, chopsticks poking around at the orange chicken in her container. Peter’s sitting next to her, picking at the lo mein, grabbing glances from the corner of his eyes at her. “So, like, the Academy was really cool, you know? I was Angel, or Baby there, and like, I don’t really know why,” he’s come to realize that she talks a lot, especially for someone who Mr. Stark acted like she was a trauma kid, “but it was super cool. There was a bunch of like, super hard assignments, but it was fine for the most part. I was top of the class.” 

He offers an impressed look to the other. “You should help me with my math homework.” 

“I did! I told you not do your math in pen, and then when you fell asleep, I did it for you,” [Name] protests, shoving another piece of chicken in her mouth. “That’s helping, isn’t it?” A small pout comes to her lips as she chews, as Peter laughs, poking her cheek gently with his free hand.

“Sure.”

It’s the sound of the elevator opening that turns both teenager’s heads towards it, and Peter basically scrambles up at the sight of Tony and a few others --- Steve, Sam Wilson, Bucky and Natasha --- and he stands up straight. They’re doing small talk in the elevator, but as soon as Tony’s line of sight catches Peter, and then [Name], it’s not hard to detect the frustration and irritation that crosses his face. “[Name]. Peter.”

Said girl turns to him, and eyebrows knit together. “Yes?" 

“You shouldn’t be out of bed. Is it really so hard to follow instructions?” Tony turns from Peter to [Name], frustration glowering as he hones in on the older one. “All you had to make sure of was that she stayed in bed.”

“Technically---”

He cuts him off, with a hand, “I don’t care. I gave you _one_ job. _One job ---_ ”

“Stop it.” [Name] all but throws herself in front of Peter and Tony, as the other four slip up towards their respective rooms, leaving the three in the room. “Tony, it’s not his fault. I’m the one who was hungry.”

“Oh, like I’m supposed to believe a single thing that comes from you,” he scowls, rage filled words dropping from his lips, and he can see the hurt and recoil that comes from the girl standing in front of Peter, but he doesn’t break. “Go to your room, Angel.”

“N-Not fai---”

“Angel. Now.” It’s not a term of endearment, as [Name]’s anger flares up, but she turns on her heel almost robotically towards the staircase, and she throws an apology over her shoulder, “I’m sorry, Peter.”

It’s a few moments of assessment, turning from Tony, to her, back to Tony. He gives a weak smile to the girl, “it’s okay, [Name]. I’ll see you later.”

She disappears up the staircase.

 

“What did she tell you?” Tony’s picking at [Name]’s leftovers, and Peter raises a hand in objection.

“Those are… actually… [Name]’s leftovers.”

“My card, my leftovers,” he says crassly, “spit it out, Peter. What’d she tell you?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony frowns, chewing on the leftovers thoughtfully, as he swallows, before getting back to the conversation. Eyebrows knit together, “she should’ve said something. Anything. About the Academy.” 

The teenager perks up at it. “Oh yeah. It was like this really cool boarding school where they apparently sent really smart kids. I’ve never heard of it, but she said it was somewhere in Long Island.”

Tony exhales sharply in frustration, but it’s clearly not aimed at him, as he rubs the bridge of his nose, setting down the container of now cold orange chicken on the marble island, fork following as he does so. “She’s lying to you about the whole thing, kid. Sorry.”

Peter swears to god, he feels his heart stop.


End file.
